


addictive

by arcanawildcard, clairelutra



Series: 'twas born from the blue hellsite [11]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Corporate, F/M, Older Man/Younger Woman, Unresolved Sexual Tension, preemptively hiatus'd, tie typing and broken heels and pencil skirts oh my!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:27:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22745521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcanawildcard/pseuds/arcanawildcard, https://archiveofourown.org/users/clairelutra/pseuds/clairelutra
Summary: Akira's new secretary is so hot he's pretty sure it's an attempt at corporate sabotage. It's a problem.Ann's new boss is so hot it's a problem. Not sabotage or anything, just a problem.ON HIATUS
Relationships: Amamiya Ren/Takamaki Ann, Kurusu Akira/Takamaki Ann, Persona 5 Protagonist/Takamaki Ann
Series: 'twas born from the blue hellsite [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1609501
Comments: 22
Kudos: 53





	addictive

**Author's Note:**

> anonymous-184 asked: I really loved the older!Ann/Akira that you did a while ago. Can I request the reverse (i.e. older!Akira/Ann)? Like maybe Akira is a teacher/tutor and is trying to hide his growing attraction to his student. Or Ann is Akira’s new young secretary. Thank you
> 
> i would have posted just the first part but then i couldn't use the summary, and the summary deserves to be known, dammit.
> 
> got myself stuck after this portion, but pray for me and maybe it shall see an end.
> 
> ( _i'm a slave for your kicks, come and give me a fix—i'm addic-dic-dicted to you~_ )

For all that Ann had gone into this job expecting a Pepper-Planters-and-Tony-Sharp type situation, this was the first time in the six months she'd been working that her boss had been _anything_ less than perfectly punctual and professional, and it was just him arriving five minutes late without having properly tied his tie.

It meant that he only had forty minutes to prepare and debrief instead of forty-five, which... was about as detrimental as it sounded.

"Okay, so the director of Junes wants to talk about the contract—we want to keep as many of the terms the same as we can, but if we could get them to handle the soap distribution, then that'd be _great_ for us, so keep that in mind, okay?"

Kurusu-sama nodded, looking kind of glazed and out of it and just as handsome as ever, and Ann resisted the urge to ask.

Everyone overslept sometimes, right? Right. The minutiae of why it had happened wasn't _really_ any of her business.

(It _was_ pretty adorable seeing the normally-untouchable CEO of Velvet Room Inc. trying not to nod off over his coffee though, she couldn't lie. It was making her want to coo over him or ruffle his hair or hug him or _something_ —which were maybe not the most appropriate urges to feel towards someone who was both your _boss_ and a fair bit older than you.

He seemed like the kind of guy who'd take that in good humor if she played the 'innocent child' card instead of the 'please bend me over your desk and then take me out to dinner' card, but for various reasons, she's really rather not do that.)

He let her talk for the most part, the occasional snark injections even less frequent than normal, and then her phone buzzed a warning and he got up to attend the shareholder's meeting, and it was only once he was about to walk out the door that she realized that he had no intention to fix his tie.

"Wait!"

He paused, blinking at her slowly.

She clicked up to him in her five centimeter heels. "Here, your tie..."

It was only when she had both ends in her hands that she realized how _forward_ the gesture was—hadn't he proven countless times that he knew perfectly well how to knot his own ties?

He was _bigger_ than her, soft cologne in her nose and the strange _peace_ she got from having him so close and god, she should probably be grateful he wasn't talking or that 'peace' would turn into 'overheating' faster than he could say 'Takamaki'.

Well, she was here and she couldn't back down now. Cheeks hot, she carefully folded the ends over one another and pulled them snug, then pushed the knot up to his throat.

Then, because that _couldn't_ be comfortable, she edged it down as far as she reasonably could and still maintain his professional look, the backs of her knuckles brushing electric against his pale skin.

"There... there you go," she muttered, rasping in her embarrassment, and only managed to look him in the eye for a split second before she had to find something else to look at or risk _actual death._

_Why had she even done that?_

After too many seconds of absolute silence, Kurusu-sama nodded, as taciturn as ever, then turned to leave for real.

"Um!" Ann blurted. She steeled her courage and made herself look at him. "G-good luck!"

Looking at him was _so_ worth it—he flashed her one of those rare half-smiles. "Thank you."

And then he was gone, and Ann stumbled over to her desk, sank into her chair, and buried her face in her hands.

* * *

Ann Takamaki's competence was something that was both hilarious and terrifying to Akira.

Hilarious because it was Goro that had hired her in what Akira was absolutely sure was an attempt at corporate sabotage (she'd never graduated _high school_ , much less college, and had been working full-time as a model since she was sixteen—credentials where?), and terrifying in that he was fairly sure she could take over the company if she really wanted to. He wasn't entirely sure she hadn't already.

He could actually _feel_ his IQ drop every day she decided to wear that sinfully tight pencil skirt around his office and his dick would just _not shut up_ around her no matter how many times he repeated 'just barely twenty' to himself. He was genuinely worried about what she could get him to agree to when she spoke in that shy, sweet murmur.

(He was _her boss_ and _twice her age._ He could be her _father._

...He needed a drink.)

She'd turned twenty just this month, which had reduced his need for a drink by about half, because at least his brain wasn't trailing off on _'she's nineteen',_ but she was still the self-same sweet ditz that had been hired for him six months ago, just as vivacious and earnest—and just as _professional_ and _hard-working_ and, god, he was definitely going to hell.

It was on his mind for the umpteenth time as he followed her up the steps to his private jet, trying not to stare too hard at the nape below that carefully-maintained bun or the flawless ass shown off by that tight skirt ( _that's sexual harassment, dammit_ ) while she mumbled names to herself, hellbent on memorizing every last one of his business partners still.

"Kou Toriyama, Ren Oritsu, Terry Elder, Kou Toriyama, Ren Oritsu, Terry El— _yeep!"_

Akira jerked out of his daze at the noise and found her wobbling dangerously, swiftly followed by a _crack_ and another yelp as she fell.

He braced himself automatically, snagging her by the waist and pulling her close before she could tip over in any less secure direction, and then, well.

She was in his arms.

Fitting _criminally_ well, too, and smelling like perfume and fabric softener and skin, yawning _need_ opening a pit in his stomach as she stiffened.

Could he keep her there? She felt _so good_ there. Maybe he could keep her there.

( _God_ he wanted to bury his face in her neck so bad.)

It took a couple of heartbeats for their situation to sink in, and then Takamaki flailed, and Akira clutched her tighter in fear she'd tip right over the handrails and crack her head.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry!" She clutched at his arm and stopped squirming quite so hard. "M-my heel— I think it snapped."

He automatically glanced down to check and— _oh that was a hell of a view._

_Dammit._

She was warm and lithe even through all their layers, sweet and soft and _sensual_ to touch—he _really_ didn't want to let go.

 _Just barely twenty,_ he tried to remind himself, but his body was too busy pretending _it_ was just barely twenty to listen.

 _Fuck,_ she was gorgeous.

"Uh... Kurusu-sama?"

He cleared his throat and made himself let go. "Be careful."

"I will," she promised, sounding painfully small, and _how did he fix it._

"We can replace them, don't worry," he offered, carefully even. The cause of her distress was probably a little more complicated than broken heels, but he was frazzled enough that he couldn't do the mental math for it. "Or get them repaired, if you prefer."

"'Them'...?" she echoed blankly. Then, "Oh! The shoes. Y-yeah, that would be great, thank you!"

That hadn't fixed it, but it got her to sound normal again, so he'd figure out the rest... later. After a cold shower.

"Watch your step," he murmured, voice caught too low in his chest and—it was wishful thinking, but for a second he could have sworn she shivered.

She nodded once, then carefully tottered up the rest of the steps, broken heel struggling to maintain the same height as its fellow.

He felt a lot less guilty watching her ascend now. Had to make sure she didn't fall again, that was all. The attractiveness was just incidental.

**Author's Note:**

> an assortment of ideas that may or may not be brought to fruition:  
> \- a scene that goes like  
> futaba: let's check out his _dirt_ :3  
> futaba:  
> futaba: ... _five_ unpursued cases of statuary rape, all on the receiving end?  
> futaba: man he really put the 'bait' in 'jailbait' huh.  
> \- when one is too old for cougars, the only option left is to become the cougar  
> \- akira decides that this is absolutely just a midlife crisis and nothing else, nosiree, he's just really unsatisfied with his life, you know, so he goes out and buys five company jets because that's what you do when you're a billionaire with a midlife crisis  
> ann is understandably baffled!  
> "??? do we need more jets?"  
> "...no."  
> "then go put them back??"  
> "yes ma'am."  
> \- idk someone falls asleep on someone somewhere and the other has Emotions about it  
> \- they have a dance like in iron man except there's less screech and come-ons and more melty-happy!ann and repressed-grumpy!akira  
> \- ANN JUST REALLY LOVES HER JOB OK ~~and her boss but we aren't talking about that~~  
>  \- lap riding??? face-sitting??? do i know how to write any other positions??? doubtful. someone throw me a bone here i beg  
> \- OH. UNDER THE DESK BLOWJOBS. ha. there we go.  
> \- (anything anyone else has to add to this would be most welcome)


End file.
